


I Do

by ChaosDragon (PlotWitch)



Series: Till Death Do We Part [1]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Relationship, depending on how you view said characters, raina needs her own tag, the munin (anita blake)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-07-24
Updated: 2000-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 06:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlotWitch/pseuds/ChaosDragon
Summary: When Anita goes to New Mexico to be Tedward's guest at his wedding, things don't go at all to plan. Instead she finds herself on another monster hunt, but for the human monster who made Edward the man he became.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, rereading this is kind of painful. I could do so much better these days, and if I ever rewrite it... Please don't hold your breath on that one either, because I really don't want to reread the books and get super disappointed despite knowing they went down the drain. Anyway, reposting this, finally, since PDS and SDS disappeared.

I was 30,000 feet in the air clutching at the arms of my seat. I’d forgotten to bring a paperback and now I was paying the price the same way I’d been paying it since we took off back in St. Louis. My heart was pounding in my head and I felt like I was going to die. Hi. My name is Anita Blake, and I’m a vampire executioner.

Did I mention I’m scared of heights?

Santa Fe is a little out of my jurisdiction, so it was a good thing I wasn’t here for business. Or maybe not. I was here for a wedding. Yes, a happy little white dress black tux ‘you may now kiss the bride’ thing. And I wasn’t too happy about it. Besides the fact that I had once again agreed to be in the wedding party, it was the bride and groom that troubled me.

No, I wasn’t in love with the groom, and I had nothing for the bride. But I was completely against the wedding. What would you say if I told you Death was marrying the new age mother of the year in less than twenty-four hours? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

When I’d gotten the invitation two months ago, I’d called Edward and told him to find a way to end it, but he didn’t. I couldn’t believe that he actually wanted this family. A widow, a teenage son, a little girl, and even their little dogs, Peeka and Boo. Scary, isn’t it?

The plane shifted and I moaned. Oh God, this isn’t how I want to die. Then it leveled out and I started breathing again.

Let’s concentrate on the important things. Like I was going to be a bridesmaid. Again. Bully for me. I was going to have to wear some hideous pink thing with flowers and ribbons and gloves… I was so not looking forward to this. The second we landed, once I could walk again, I was headed over to the dress shop to make sure my dress fit. Donna, Edward’s fiancé, was meeting me there.

Speaking of Edward, I was wondering how Edward knew my dress size. Donna had told me that it was Edward who’d supplied my dress size. If he’d been breaking into my house while I wasn’t there I was going to be pissed. Hell, I already was. It was Edward who’d dragged me into this whole mess in the first place.

He was the one who called and practically begged me to fly out and accept Donna’s offer of wearing a frilly dress. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t begged, but that was only because Edward didn’t beg. He blackmailed, threatened, maybe even tortured, but he didn’t beg. He did ask me if I’d come. I said yes, but far be it from me to tell him I knew he was nervous.

Not very long ago I wouldn’t have been able to say that Death was my friend and I knew him well. Not true anymore. I knew Death, he was my friend, and I knew him well enough to know that I knew him better than anyone else alive. That was mostly due to some magic of a vampire, but it didn’t change the fact that I knew Edward.

Yes, Edward is Death. Edward is also Ted Forrester, a bounty hunter and an all-around nice guy. Don’t be fooled, Edward didn’t get the nickname ‘Death’ for no reason. He was 5’8”, blond hair, blue eyed, the epitome of WASP breeding, and he was also the most dangerous man I knew. Human man, that is. I don’t hang around the usual crowd; lots of my friends are weres and vampires.

Vampires and were-animals call me the ‘Executioner’ because that’s what I was, what I do. I hunted and killed vampires once I had a court order of execution and occasionally the odd lycanthrope got thrown in. Well, maybe a little more than occasionally, but I earned my nickname. And so did Edward.

I once saw him use a flamethrower on a rogue kiss of vampires. Not a pretty sight. But it was efficient. Messy, but very efficient. So Edward, I mean ‘Ted,’ was marrying a woman who had no idea what he really was, who he really was, and I was in the wedding party. Shit.

The last time I was in a wedding it had been my friend Catherine’s. I’d been forced to wear a pink piece of chiffon that was, in my mind, hideous. But that wasn’t enough. Gloves were added to cover the scars from various preternatural creatures on my arms and a big collar of ribbon and flowers to hide where a vampire had tried to eat through my collarbone.

The same vampire had also bitten through my left elbow leaving it with a huge mass of scar tissue and the curse of having to lift weights for the rest of my life or the arm will become useless.

Said vampire is now dead.

Edward shot him up with silver nitrate and I shot him up with a shotgun.

“Shit,” I said softly as the plane began to make its descent. The seatbelt announcement had been made fifteen minutes earlier and I was ready. My eyes were squeezed shut and I was taking deep breaths.

We landed safely. Thank God.

I was leaving the airport when a horn beeped behind me. I turned around and saw a dusty Hummer. Edward had come to pick me up? I squinted against the glare on the windshield. Nope, not Edward. It was Donna. Well, at least I wasn't going to have to call a taxi or rent something. She pulled over and opened the passenger door.

She smiled at me and I smiled back. And then she said, “Hey, Anita! How are you?”

There are reasons why I don’t sweat small talk. One of them is this very question. What was I supposed to say? “Right now I can’t decide if I love the werewolf or the vampire more, and on top of that I slept with them both again, not at the same time, of course, but….” See? There you go. That is why small talk is bad.

And honestly, I was afraid she’d ask more. Or tell Edward. He’d taken this strange fascination with my personal life. He was always asking me whom I was doing now, the furball or the walking corpse. And I just didn’t feel like having him quiz me again over Jean-Claude and Richard.

Besides, he’d probably offer to kill one or both of them if I told him we weren’t seeing each other anymore. Jean-Claude’s gone back to his seductive ways and Richard’s seeing a nice werewolf he met in Tennessee. It was part of our deal to try and ‘expand our dating horizons.’ Which was mainly my fault. I couldn’t choose between them, and I was beginning to doubt the love we shared.

So I did the next best thing. I lied.

I spent the next half-hour listening to Donna go on about the wedding and Ted, something I could have lived without. But it was better than me telling her about my personal life. And she positively giggled when we pulled into the parking lot of the bridal shop.

I didn’t panic when I saw the dress. Actually, it was nice. And brownie points for Donna, she didn’t even mention my scars when I walked out with the dress on. I don’t think she really cared about them.

The dress was a floor length, jade-green sheath. Very fitted, but loose enough for me to carry a gun under it at my waist. No, not one of those things that straps around the thigh. Anyone who wears them is crazy because they chafe horribly. There was a slit that went up my right leg to the top of my thigh making it that much easier to reach a gun. Someone liked me.

“I hope you like the slit. Ted said you’d prefer that to what the other bridesmaids are wearing.”

This wasn’t standard bridesmaid handout? Edward said that I’d prefer a slit? Okay, that was strange. And on top of that, the dress fit perfectly. Edward and I were going to have to have a little talk when I got to his house.

“There’s no slit on the other dresses.” I didn’t ask it; I didn’t really need to. But I wanted to make sure I was right before I talked to Edward.

Donna nodded. “Ted insisted that a slit be cut into yours. But that’s the only difference. Though I can’t imagine why you’d wear a slit that high,” she added. She was curious.

Edward and I were definitely going to have a talk.

“It makes me look taller,” I lied.

I had the funny feeling I was going to be doing a lot of that this trip.


	2. Chapter 2

This was a nightmare, something straight out of hell. Edward was getting married. Edward getting married was not really bad. It was more that he was marrying into an innocent family. And I just couldn’t get past that one thing. If it were a different family, I’d still be freaked out. Cause either way, none of them would ever know about him.

In a way, Donna, Peter, and Becca did know what he was, who he was. They’d been invited into his other life when I’d been in Santa Fe several months before. I was still trying to figure out Edward’s multiple lives. First he’s Ted Forrester, then he’s Edward, and then he’s Death, Undertaker: a whole host of personalities. Except that they were all him, minus the Ted persona. Nothing was different except for the name.

I was thinking all of this as the procession, including me, made its way down the aisle to the altar. I hope I smiled. Once we were down there, I think my mind just froze. I couldn’t believe Edward was doing this. But he was. He was standing there in a black tuxedo complete with tails, looking kind of cute. I almost laughed. I thought Edward was cute. Celibacy was not agreeing with me.

He must have felt me looking at him and he glanced at me. I was smiling so he smiled back but there was a shadow in his eyes. He was nervous. That was enough to make my smile bigger. If I was uncomfortable with all of it, the least Edward could do was be nervous.

I think he would have scowled at me except that the wedding march started then, and Donna began her walk down the aisle. She looked, I have to admit it, beautiful, and I think Edward was a little awestruck. So I stood there with my hand pressed against my dress, feeling the gun, wishing I could end this safely without killing someone and spending the next fifty years in jail.

How could I let this happen?

But I did.

I even kept my mouth shut when the minister asked if there was anyone who objected. Edward glanced at me and I think he was waiting for me to say something. I just looked at him and he looked back, his pale blue eyes blank and cold as winter skies. He couldn’t even play Ted for the entire wedding.

And maybe that was a good thing because no sooner had the minister proclaimed, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” and they kissed, all hell broke loose.

The doors at the back of the church burst open and gunshots echoed in my ears. Shit.

Edward and I both kissed the floor, him taking Donna with and me grabbing some bridesmaids and Peter. I’d seen Becca scuttle underneath the pew she’d been standing next to. That would have to do because there was no way I could get to her without getting myself killed.

Let’s just call it women’s intuition, but I had both the Browning and the Firestar with me. I pulled the Firestar from the bellyband under the dress and handed it to Peter who took it with a nod. His eyes were almost as empty as Edward’s and mine. It was frightening. Then I produced the Browning from a new holster I’d gotten weeks ago for the final date Jean-Claude and I’d went on.

It was slung low on my back, low enough that it couldn’t be seen even with the scoop-back, and it hid the gun almost perfectly thanks to the slight sway in my back. It was a little harder to get at than the Firestar, but I was glad I’d used it even as I reached under the dress for it and flashed half the room. But it’s not like they were looking.

When I dove into the people I’d pushed them behind the first pew on my side of the church, so I leaned around it and used it for cover. I saw the bad guys and it wasn’t a happy sight. They were wearing Kevlar vests and had automated Uzi’s.

“Shit,” I said as they opened fire in the direction of my head. I ducked behind the pew and fell back as part of the wood exploded. I pushed Peter and the nameless women back farther and popped up where I was. I fired two shots and hid again. Good idea. A short burst went over my head, splintering more of the pew.

I jumped up again and fired three times. I still wasn’t hitting anything vital. Gunshots went off next to my ear as I ducked, and I glanced over to see Peter returning fire.

“Get your ass down, Peter!”

Edward would kill me if Peter were hurt. Or worse. He didn’t listen but I didn’t have time to knock him down again.

Gunfire blasted away the wood between Peter and me and we both ducked. The bridesmaids were hugging the floor, crying and whimpering. I glanced across to see Edward returning fire. Donna was hugging Becca to her chest as they lay low on the floor. Her white dress was red with blood. I didn’t know whose.

I turned back to the men with the guns and had an idea. Quickly I ducked low and belly crawled under the pews until I was a few rows away from them. I kneeled low, a feat of its own because of the dress, and fired point blank at three of the men’s heads quickly enough to duck again and crawl back to Peter without being shot.

He was lying on the ground, his eyes half-closed. Shit. I felt for a pulse. Nothing. I brushed my left hand over his eyes and said a quick prayer for him. Then I grabbed the Firestar from his limp hand and kneeled from behind the row. I fired quickly and accurately with both hands. Four more of the commando guys went down and Edward followed suit, getting three more.

There were only a handful of our attackers left. Soon to be none judging by the way that they were falling back. “Undertaker!” one of them yelled.

Edward peeked over his cover and got a volley of bullets sent his way.

“You die!”

How original.

I fired at him and missed. He sent a spray of bullets my way and I ducked again. The spray went low and bit into wood inches from my face. I jerked back and it continued between the aisles and to Edward’s pew. He cried out as a few bullets hit him and then I was up with the Browning aimed at the man’s head. I shot, he fell, and Edward was saved from getting shot more.

Then they were gone, and the church was silent except for a few whimpers and the sound of crying. Then the screaming started. I guess they figured out the bad guys were dead or gone. I was still numb as I stood and walked over to Edward. He was holding Donna and Becca in his arms.

The blood was Donna’s. Shit. There was blood on her lips, clashing with the pale rose lipstick she wore, and she was talking softly to Becca and Edward. Becca was crying and Edward was stone faced. Donna smiled gently at him and the ice bled away to be replaced with his Ted face, and it was somber and sad.

He leaned down and kissed her softly. Becca hugged Donna and then it was like slow motion. I watched as her hand slid away from Becca and felt the brush of her soul.

She was gone, just like that.

I guess there wasn’t anything to keep her hanging around. It was good she hadn’t known Peter was… dead before she died. She died believing that Edward, I mean Ted, would watch over her children and protect them.

It was better that way.

Edward looked up at me and his eyes were empty. Not cold and distant, but lost. I knelt beside him. Becca flung herself into my arms and at the same time reached out for Edward. “Daddy,” she cried, and he pulled her close to him. She wouldn’t let go of me, so we ended up hugging the little girl and each other.

Her tears spilled onto my dress and her fingers clutched at my back. They were cold as ice and balled into little fists. I felt a larger set of fingers, warm ones, grab hers and hold them. Becca clutched Edward’s hand tightly and cried. Edward just looked at me over her shaking body, his eyes bright.

I still wasn't sure if he had loved Donna, but one thing was sure: he loved the kids. Which is why I didn’t want to tell him about Peter. One, I was afraid he was going to kill me. Two, I was afraid he’d snap. Then there was choice three: he’d just sit there with his blank face.

“Edward,” I said softly. “Peter…”

He nodded his head sharply. “I know.”

Then he closed his eyes. I think if he hadn’t been holding on to me and Becca he would have fallen over, but as it was, he was leaning heavily. Becca squeezed his waist, trying to hug him, and he cried out. She pulled away, her face bloody, and Edward slumped over.

“Daddy!” she shrieked.

Daddy? When the hell had that happened? Last night at the rehearsal she’d called him Ted and nothing but.

I held her as paramedics appeared, noticing for the first time that the church was now crawling with police and paramedics. Someone had called 911. Bully for them. Edward was lifted onto the stretcher and they wheeled him out to an ambulance. I followed with Becca in my arms pausing only long enough to pick up Edward’s gun.

As we rode away from the church in the back of the ambulance, I looked back at it. Edward was married and a widower in one day.

This definitely wasn’t turning out to be a fun trip.


	3. Chapter 3

I was in the hospital.

Somehow, I always seemed to end up there one way or another whenever I came to Santa Fe. At least I wasn’t the one in it this time. But that could still change. I was on the fifth floor standing outside of two private rooms. Becca was in one of them, sedated and sleeping. She was being treated for shock and Doctor Cunningham had insisted she stay the night at least, he wanted her there for a few days though because she’d been through a lot.

Edward was in the other and Doctor Cunningham was with him still. I was waiting for him to come out so I could see Edward who was pretty hurt. From what I’d been told in the ER, at least one of the bullets had nicked a lung. Add onto that that his fiancé, excuse me, wife, had been murdered at their wedding, and his stepson, too, I’d say he was in a world of hurt.

Doctor Cunningham came out and closed the door behind him. “Ms. Blake, it seems that you and Mr. Forrester just can’t stay away.

I smiled weakly at him. I was still in my dress and it was ripped and bloody. “It would seem so, Doctor.” I just wasn’t in the mood for banter, friendly or otherwise.

“Mr. Forrester has asked me to send you in. He wants to talk to you before we sedate him.”

I nodded and walked past him into Edward’s room. The door closed behind me and looked down. I was tired. Edward lay in the hospital bed, white bandages covering his left arm and his chest. He was wearing one of the hospital gowns that opened from the front. Lucky him.

“Anita,” he said softly.

“Edward,” I replied. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? To be honest, I felt kind of guilty. I’d prayed for something to happen to keep Edward from being a part of Donna’s life, and look what had happened. I felt responsible.

“I need out of here, Anita.”

I looked at him sharply. “Edward, you’re not going anywhere. You’re too hurt.”

“You can fix it,” he said. His eyes held mine with a burning gaze. There was intensity and knowledge. Edward had been doing his research since I’d last been here.

“How do you know that, Edward?” I asked, my heart pounding. Did he know how I did it? How much of a monster I’d become?

“I’ve been talking to the local pack. They’re very… talkative when they’re drunk.”

So he knew, one way or another. I shook my head. “It’s ritual magic, Edward. A ritual that’s beyond me right now.”

“But you can do it.” Again there was that knowing gaze as his pale blue eyes burned into mine.

I nodded. “I can. But without a ritual it takes sex or violence. Blood. None of which I have right now.” None of which I wanted, but I didn’t say that out loud. And truthfully, I just didn’t want Raina inside me.

He produced a knife from somewhere. Trust Edward to be prepared and armed, even in a hospital bed with IV’s and monitors. He sliced into the unblemished skin of his right arm and blood welled up. I could feel Raina surge inside of me. Shit. My teacher, Marianne, was teaching me ritual magic, but we still hadn’t gotten to the part where I could control the munin, control Raina, without trouble.

I took a step back.

“You have blood, Anita, now heal me.” His voice was cold and hard.

I shook my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking me, Edward. I can’t control Raina well enough not to give her what she’ll want in return for the healing.” And I wasn’t completely sure I could use the munin on a normal human.

“Just do it.”

I stepped forward and touched his arm. The blood smeared along my fingers and his skin and Raina’s laughter bubbled up inside of me, out of my mouth. He didn’t flinch.

“Shit,” I said and jumped back. Then I stepped forward. The bitch wanted the blood and from the look in Edward’s cold, empty eyes, the bastard knew it.

“Edward, you don’t understand this.” I was shaking my head, but my hand was reaching for the blood. “She understands sex and blood and pain. That’s what she wants.”

“Just do it.”

My eyes met his and I glared at him. This wasn’t fair. I knew why he wanted me to do it. He wanted Van Cleef. And the price he was willing to pay was magic. Something he hated, or at least feared. But the price for me was Raina inside me again. I hadn’t been able to control her the last time, and I wasn’t sure I could do it now.

Shit.

Raina stormed into me and laughed the entire way. She knew I didn’t want this; that I didn’t want to pay her what she named the price, but she knew I was going to do what Edward asked. I leaned down to Edward’s arm, to his blood, and gave her part of what she wanted.

It was salty, sweet, strangely good. But that was her. She liked the blood. The normal human blood. I looked up at Edward and he looked back, a shadow flickering through his baby blues. He didn’t understand this, not really, but he was willing. And Raina liked that. Blood was smeared on my mouth, trickling down my throat, and she laughed. The bitch laughed through me at my disgust.

I leaned closer to Edward’s face, my bloody lips hovering over his. “Is this what you want, Edward? Are you willing to give her this?”

He nodded. I kissed him and pushed the healing power of the munin into him. Raina was happy. I felt sick. I pulled the bandages away from his side and ran the tip of my tongue around the bullet wounds. She wanted me to plunge my finger into them, to make him scream in pain. I fought her. That I wouldn’t do.

I thrust the power into the wounds and ran my tongue over them. Edward’s breath came out in a hiss as they closed. It had worked. I threw myself back from the bed against the wall. Oh God, it had worked. Edward was sitting up, I saw him move through my eyelashes. I squeezed them shut and tried to force Raina out of me.

I screamed as she fought back, but she wasn’t strong enough to control me again. And I wasn’t strong enough to make her go. Shit. So she curled up inside my head. I could feel her like a tangible presence there and it made me gag. But she was quiet.

I stood up slowly and my body was shaking. Edward was looking at me warily, like he’d just discovered a new kind of monster. “What are you?” he asked.

I didn’t say anything. He let it go.

He pulled the IV’s from his arm and then the plugs that were on his chest. They left red welts.

“Alright, Edward, I did what you wanted. Happy?”

He nodded. “Will you help me?”

Edward was asking for my help. And I knew what he wanted, but I wanted to hear him say it, so I just stood there, my face blank.

“I need help if I go after Van Cleef.”

I knew it, and I knew I’d help him. After what Van Cleef had done that day there was no way I wouldn’t. I nodded.

“Good,” Edward said, and his eyes were like blue fire.


	4. Chapter 4

Edward, bless his sociopathic little heart, took me back to Ted’s house and took me into a secret room in his basement that had lots and lots of toys. Not only did he present me with two fully automated mini-Uzi’s; he outfitted me in a Kevlar suit.

The vest fit like a glove, it had been designed with the female anatomy in mind. There were leg pads that strapped around my thighs and calves and arm pads that did the same. It must have cost a fortune. We suited up in that and then black fatigues went over. He was feeling generous, so I got to keep my Nike’s, but only after coloring the blue swoosh in with a black marker.

A set of blacked out knives went into loops on the forearms of my suit, and another set went on my thighs. There was a clip on the back that let me hook one mini-Uzi there; I was carrying the other to avoid being surprised.

The Browning went into a shoulder holster, leather and black, and the Firestar went into a holster at the left side of my waist. Extra ammo went into many of the little pockets and Edward began handing me several grenades. The real thing. Shit. I stowed them in pockets on my chest.

He fitted me with a radio device around my throat and let me slide the earpiece into my ear. “Testing,” he said in a soft voice that I heard only through the radio. “Gotcha, Edward,” I said softly.

He nodded and we slid black hoods over our heads. Looping a set of night vision goggles over my arm I grabbed the mini Uzi and we moved out.

Van Cleef’s lair was in the middle of the desert, big surprise. We drove within a few hundred yards and went the rest of the way on foot. Edward motioned for me to slip the night vision goggles on and I did. He stopped in the middle of the sand and began scooping sand out of a whole. A black box appeared, and he picked the lock. A pair of wire cutters appeared in his hand and he cut a red wire.

I have no clue what this did, but I was guessing it took the lights out. I was wrong since he said softly through the radio that the alarm was dead. This was why I stuck to preternatural dealings. He flipped a black switch and that cut the lights, or so he said. I was going to have to trust him on that one.

He stood in a fluid motion that would have been impressive if it weren’t for the fact that I hung around so many lycanthropes, and stalked to the entrance of the installment. Installment. Now I was talking in military terms. All right, no more TV when I get home. Not a big loss since I never watched it much anyway, but this was getting spooky, even for me.

We took out the two guards at the door with blades, silent and efficient. He searched one of the dead men and pulled a small plastic card from a chain around the man’s throat. He slid it into a slot beside the door and we were in. Bully for us.

We used the Uzi’s to take out half a dozen men while they were scrambling for their own sets of goggles. Apparently, they were standard issue if you worked for Van Cleef. Then we prowled out way through turn after turn, our bodies low to the ground. Occasionally Edward would tell me to throw a grenade into one of the corridors we passed, and I did. Then we hauled ass to get away from the explosion.

We reached our destination and I saw Edward quickly slide his goggles off. I was following his lead when lights came on and I was blinded. Shit. Night vision sucks of you wear it in bright light.

“Undertaker. So good to see you again,” a voice said from in front of me. Seeing was something I really wanted to do right now.

I was grabbed from behind and unarmed before my vision cleared. When I could see again, I almost laughed. The man in front of me was wearing fatigues, but he had a mask on. To conceal his identity. No, to keep me from seeing his face. I already knew who he was. Van Cleef.

I glanced at Edward. There was blood running down his forehead into his eye. It looked bright in the light, red, so very red and tasty. I wanted to lick it off of him, cover his mouth with mine…. Fuck! I shoved my power against Raina and she quieted. She still wasn’t gone, but at least I didn’t have to deal with her yet.

Van Cleef walked towards Edward and laughed. “You are either very brave or very stupid to storm my compound. But you were very effective,” he said, and his face went blank.

It wasn’t as good as Edward’s blank face, but it was good. I looked at Van Cleef and wondered for a moment who had been student and who had been teacher when Edward finally left.

Guess which way I was voting.

Then he turned to me and smacked me. It didn’t really hurt, not with the marks on me, but I let my head fall to one side. It wouldn’t do for the bad guys to know they’d have to work much harder to hurt me. Then a knee was rammed into my stomach and I fell to my knees. I hung by my arms trying to breathe and pretended to be more hurt than I was.

Maybe it would work on these guys, but I doubted it. Then again, maybe my skills as an actress were improving. They let me drop and I landed on my face. I managed not to say anything or even move. One of the guards kicked me again and it turned me onto my side. Then Van Cleef ordered them out.

They left and I peered at Edward and Van Cleef through my lashes. One man guarded Edward. Okay, that’s good. Only two guys in the room with us and no windows I could see. Bad thing was it looked like one of my Uzi’s that was being trained on Edward. These guys were good, thorough. But not thorough enough.

I had one thing up my sleeve. Not literally, but I had one grenade tucked into my bra. Call it insurance, but I had wanted back up in case we were captured. Now I was glad I’d been paranoid. Problem was I didn’t know how to get at it without getting shot first. Sure, I’d fallen and been kicked onto my side, one arm was clutched to my chest.

But I had to go through a shirt and body armor to get to the damned thing. Well, there was only one thing to do. Go for it. We were dead one way or another; I’d prefer to go down fighting. Well, that and I was hoping to get lucky.

I got lucky. I had the grenade out and the pin pulled before I was on my feet. Edward had used some sort of martial arts that I’d never seen before to get my Uzi from the bad guy’s hands. He had the gun on Van Cleef while the other guy was still on the floor. I got to him before he was up and took my Browning out of his holster.

I wasn’t feeling generous tonight. I looked at Edward and he stared back. Then I put a bullet in the man’s head. Edward’s eyes were still blank and I knew there was no one at home in mine. Oh well. I didn’t even take a moment to miss whatever piece of me it was I’d just killed.

I opened the door and stepped outside with the grenade held high. Nobody flinched but they didn’t rush me either. Van Cleef followed with Edward behind him.

He led the way back to the entrance. I left Edward there with Van Cleef and went to get the Hummer. That might not have been the smartest thing to do. When I came back, I saw Edward still holding the gun on Van Cleef. I got out and touched his arm.

“Edward?” I said softly, and he didn’t look at me.

I shrugged and threw the grenade into through the door. It went boom and I smiled unpleasantly. Van Cleef didn’t move. “Edward, we need to go.”

He nodded slightly and a short burst from the Uzi cut across Van Cleef’s stomach. He fell forward and Edward bent to check him. He was twitching but silent, red stained the front of his shirt. I don’t know what Edward whispered to him, but Van Cleef laughed sharply and said something too soft for me to hear.

Then Edward was in the driver’s seat and we were driving away. He stopped a quarter mile away and pulled a small black box out of the glove compartment. The switch was flipped and the night sky behind us was ablaze in orange and red. The bastard had planted explosives and I had no clue when he’d done it.

He didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything.

We got back to his house before dawn and had just sat down to a pot of coffee when the phone rang. Edward looked at me and we had one of those moments of perfect understanding. Or maybe it was just the pain and loss in his eyes. I answered the phone.

“Death follows the Executioner wherever she goes,” and they hung up. I dropped the phone.

Edward was by my side in a heartbeat holding the phone to his ear. He hung it up and turned to me. He knew. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew who’d been on the phone.

So did I.

Van Cleef.


	5. Chapter 5

I still haven’t figured out what Van Cleef meant by, “Death follows the Executioner wherever she goes,” and I’m not sure I want to. I had my hands full enough without solving silly riddles and looking over my shoulder all the time. Not to say I didn’t. I was always watching my back now. Jean-Claude and Richard helped me do that, but it was Edward who gave me piece of mind on the Van Cleef matter.

He moved to St. Louis. Since Donna and Peter had died Becca had no family left except Edward. He in turn had no clue about raising a little girl. Neither did I, but that didn’t stop him from hauling ass to live in my city. Edward still doesn’t like the monsters, but I’ve convinced him that Richard and Jean-Claude are built in babysitters.

Becca calls them Uncle Richard and Uncle Fang-face. That was my fault, but Jean-Claude didn’t mind so much. To be honest, I think he liked having her around as often as she was. She had a room at the Circus that was full of frilly dresses and dolls and she made Jean-Claude play tea with her at least once a week. Richard she made watch every Disney movie in existence until the tapes broke from being watched too much.

Edward and Becca have become close. Closer than I thought Edward would ever get to anyone. When they’re together they look like a family. She calls him Daddy and he calls her Princess. He’s also teaching her how to fire a gun.

As for Becca and me… she likes me. A little too much, I think.

Last night I went to dinner with Becca and Edward. When we ordered Becca called me “Mommy.”

Edward just looked at me and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have some recovered/saved Anita Blake fics (including plenty of A/E, but not only that) stuck on a google drive, [please click here](https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1KQMp7b06-cmAndB_tUv2YS4cPQlsNaMk?usp=sharing) to go check it out and read some more excellent fic.


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